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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153335">Nothing Bad Ever Happens To The Kennedys</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fix9/pseuds/Fix9'>Fix9</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, also sorry for the title except im not, canon-typical ants, enjoy, general content warning for like. Bugs and stuff?? Its tma so like, hm what else, i really google image searched for gangrene for this please like it im traumatized now, idk this is really short but, jane prentiss worm queen jordan kennedy ant king...i have two hands, jordan kennedy nation rise up, mag 184 really gave us everything us jordan + corruption stans wanted</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:56:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fix9/pseuds/Fix9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know how to be this.”</p><p>“You’ll learn.”</p><p>mr kennedy 💍💍</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nothing Bad Ever Happens To The Kennedys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The first thing he does after they leave is take a walk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How long has it been since he’s seen the sky? The tunnels—the <em>ants</em>—sing to him and it feels new and familiar all at once. They <em>need</em> him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he can spare a few minutes. They can wait.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They do not follow him as he leaves the tunnels and the outside air is wonderful. It buzzes and the rotting smell of infestation and disease waft through the air. It does not choke or itch like it used to. Despite his newfound ties to the tunnels, his new self, he almost tears up at finally escaping and feeling the air and sky, however twisted and vicious they may be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stuffs his hands, which are still pockmarked with ant bites, into his pockets. The man from the institute, that <em>watcher</em>, could take away the direct pain but he left the scars. He left a new sort of pain that feels horribly wonderful, like eating something salty with bloody lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jordan calls him the man from the institute as if he hadn’t seen his unblinking unfeeling unending eyes watch him writhe and squirm and try to cry out as millions of tiny black ants flood into his lungs in his nightmares, in his dreams ever since he gave his statement however many years ago it was. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t matter how long ago it was, because it is so far away from now. He doesn’t dream anymore. It is a different world, and Jordan has just been pulled from its hellish depths by a scarred, knowing hand and emerged from a rotting chrysalis as a ruler of the very slums he suffered through. His voice buzzes like a swarm, like a dragonfly, like the very thing he spent his life murdering without hesitation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What does it mean for him? The sky above is swirling, the color of infected wounds, the bluish green color of gangrene, and Jordan feels anything but disgust as he stands under the rotting moon. He now watches over that which he hated and feels something resembling kinship. The wind blows and the land crawls. Jordan does not flinch against it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can distantly remember his life before, before he was one minute standing outside smoking a cigarette and the next choking under the swarm of ants, but beyond that it’s something of a blur. He remembers the institute, and its eyes on him always. He is almost horrified at the brutality of his old life. The chemicals and gasses and traps all engineered to murder innocent things that seemed to have such a purpose in life, a purpose greater than the individual but so powerful and glorious—no. He does not let himself think like that. Sure, he might not be covered in crawling things anymore, but he can feel the fear of those who are, and that makes him, by all accounts and logic, a monster.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But what does logic mean anymore? It wasn’t logical to wake up in a city and end up in a tunnel of itching, sprawling black. He is horrified to think of the gear he wore, his armor as he led a pointless, cruel crusade. If he’s a monster for reveling in the suffering of man, he was a monster for reveling—not reveling, <em>causing</em>—the suffering of so many creatures. And it is so many. How could he just waltz into their home and destroy it like that and sleep soundly at night? Jordan shudders to think about it. Is it worse to feed off the suffering of others or to cause it directly? </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At the very beginning he did think the tunnels were a punishment for his work, but as the torture progressed he realized that the ants didn’t care about him. Sure, they bit and crawled and terrorized him constantly, but it wasn’t with a vengeance. It could have been anyone. He was just unlucky. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Unlucky enough to see the watcher through the speckled black, unlucky enough to cry out for him, unlucky enough to have his fear and pain taken away, unlucky enough to have it replaced with a hunger and a buzz. His tongue feels pulpy, like a wasp’s nest that wasn’t a wasp’s nest from a distant, hazy memory.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d asked them to leave. To let him be alone. He is standing out in the open air as the wind howls and hums and no one is around. To an outside observer he might appear to be alone, but he is not alone and he knows deep down in his maggot-apple heart that he will never be alone again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Am I still me?” He had asked, desperate and scared. And the watcher didn’t know how to answer. Jordan should hate him for it, but he saved him. He gave him the opportunity to go back to the depths of the swarm, and Jordan chose to stay as this new thing. It’s quiet outside. The humming of the tunnels is white noise. It isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It’s almost peaceful.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Somewhere far away, in the deepest pits of his tunnels, someone’s screams echo as an endless wave of ants burrow deep into their skin, leaving tiny holes that are empty and grotesque. Leaving them hollow. Jordan feels their terror run through him like hot blood, his veins and tunnels becoming one. His mind buzzes with the agony, with the ecstasy of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At the end of the day, he’s always been a monster. He is terrified of this thing he’s becoming, but it’s fitting, he thinks. It sickens him to be monstrous, but he’s always been monstrous. Maybe he’s always been sick.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jordan can’t ignore the call of the tunnels forever. The ants in their incomprehensible, electroshock number may not have a queen, they themselves are their own pulsing life force. But they do have a king, now, and he returns to his kingdom to take his throne.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*spiral of ants by lemon demon plays*<br/>Hey gang! I kind of churned this out bc this episode really checked all the boxes lol. I hope you liked it!<br/>- Fix9</p></blockquote></div></div>
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